


under the cover of wings

by Jpe (Anamika)



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: is that what it's called, obligatory Sad oneshot, sycamore twins augustine & diantha au, tho i guess it's more hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8321638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anamika/pseuds/Jpe
Summary: Look what he’s done to you she thinks, but does not say.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this... is pretty old by now & was going to be part of a longer thing about them as twins, but then i sort of lost the ability to write any and everything (otherwise i would've been putting a lot more stuff out aha-) so i ended up canning it :p still liked this excerpt tho so i extended it to stand on its own
> 
> anyway i'm so happy everyday for the augustine & diantha twins headcanon

It’s her own “twin sense” as much as the worried Holocaster message from Dexio that drives her to take the day off (with some persuasion of the _demanding_ kind for her agent) and immediately fly to Lumiose. Towns away and across the region she could already feel it as the news of the “Flare Incident,” as people were calling it, came in- in the wake of disaster, Augustine was left devastated. Now, standing on the doorstep of the lab, she knows the moment she steps in and goes up the elevator to his small fourth-story loft the pain will only increase.

The apartment is chillingly quiet save for the creak of the door behind her. The atmosphere wasn’t far from a funeral’s, the dull sting of loss sinking deep into one's skin & settling somewhere in their soul. Diantha’s steps are gentle, willing her heels not to tap out loudly on the wooden floor, but her eyes are sharp, listlessly combing the dim rooms for any sign of her twin.

When she finally finds him she almost doesn’t want to believe it.

The mess (for lack of a better word) on the bed, soaked with tears and snot and sweat and wine, curled into a ball as if making himself small enough would hide him from his grief, is hardly recognizable as her brother at first glance. 

_Look what he’s done to you_ she thinks, but does not say.

Diantha slides onto the bed. The covers are askew, thrown this way and that, everywhere except on top of Augustine. Reaching out, she grasps the softest looking one and wraps it around his bony shoulders, using it to pull him up and into her arms.

The reaction is immediate. He clings to her like a drowning man onto a buoy, pressing close into the hug as if her steadiness could cure him of the earthquakes under his skin, the tremors wracking his body.

" _D-Dian…_ "

It’s oh so painful, almost unbearably so; the nickname was a fond one, laced with the memories of sunny Couriway summers and joking teasing and whispers of secrets and all the millions of things twins do, all the good things they share. Yet now he croaks it out like a desperate call, a plea for the angel holding him to save him from his pain.

One careful hand rests on his (unwashed, greasy, ignored) hair and begins to stroke soothingly. 

"I’m here. You’re not alone, dear."

His arms tighten around her, fingers curling into the fabric wings still on her back. 

"Why? Why, Dian? Wh-why did it all… Why did he... Why w-wasn’t I…" Not a single question is finished, not any directed towards her or Arceus or the universe as a whole nor even that damned redhead, but he doesn’t need to complete any of them; she understands.

"You did everything you could for him."

"I loved him," he whispers, and Diantha’s fingers still in his hair.

"I know," she murmurs. "I know, August."

"Still- Even now, after all th-that-" and he’s choking on the words, on the sobs, so she pulls him closer to her chest and the heart breaking inside it for him. "I _still_ do. I still love him. That’s wrong, isn’t it? Isn’t it- isn’t it _bad?_ Isn’t it terr-"

"Shh. Hush, now. You need to rest."

It’s only after minutes more of reassuring coos and light hums that Augustine calms down at last, hard weeping fading into sniffing, snuffles in turn becoming the deep, slow breaths of sleep. With the attention and care of a mother she lays him down, straightening the covers around and over him. Only after a last worried gaze cast back at her brother does she turn the light off and throw the room into the cool of darkness.

\--------

It hardly comes as any surprise that she wakes up before Augustine. Her clothes and back both make their disapproval at her choice to crash on his couch _very_ clear, but right now, she can't bring herself to care. The sunlight flows in through the window, dappling over the floor at her bare feet in that simple sort of beauty only clear mornings bring. For a second Diantha pauses, and something in the gentle sight reminds her to breathe.

Augustine has only just woken up, it seems, by the time she's pushing open the door to his room with a plate of (mostly stale, yet still edible) tartine coated liberally with Mago berry jam (fished from the back of his sparse fridge, _hopefully_ not moldy) in hand. One of Augustine's hands rubs at a still-puffy eye lazily with the look of a man trying (and failing) to process just about anything. Namely, why he's awake and what he's supposed to do now that there's no going back to sleep. 

Diantha chuckles, and gently presses the meager breakfast into his hands. This seems to give him some direction, the bread and the contact both.

"Ah, Dian- You're still here? Sorry, sorry, you didn't need to worry. Or stay. Or..."

"It's _alright,_ August."

Nothing more needs to be said about it. The sheepish nod, the slight smile he gives tells her he knows what she means. They've said it all before, years upon years, in silent actions and simple sentences.

It's after a few moments of letting contentment come to wrap them up that she finally breaks the silence (save for the quiet munching signaling the disappearance of her twin's breakfast).

"Are _you_ alright?"

A pause.

Another.

".....No." He admits. His eyes turn down, pretending to be engrossed in the crumbs rallying together in his blanket. 

Her arms move on their own, legs folding as she shifts onto the mattress. At any ordinary moment Augustine would be over her with his five inch advantage. This is not one of times. A soft sigh blows out, forehead pressed to her shoulder and back hunched under her hands.

 _If only you'd never met him. If only you'd never gotten close enough to his inferno to be left in ashes. If only you didn't love so damnably much, dear Augustine._

"But I am... Glad. That you're here."

The smile he casts as he sits up again is pained, still tense with mourning and pulled down by the weight of his loss. Yet the gratitude in it is genuine, and at that moment Diantha couldn't ask for more.

**Author's Note:**

> edit: now with [absolutely amazing art by ryttu3k!!](http://ryttu3k.tumblr.com/post/152068335275/save-me-save-me-gross-sycamore-twin-emotions) ❤


End file.
